


Just an Hour

by Mizuphae



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Robin (Comics), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Bart Allen Needs A Hug, Cassie Sandsmark Needs a Hug, Core Four, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kon-El | Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake-centric, but not really, i literally have no self-control, ok maybe a little comfort, somebody stop me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26627035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizuphae/pseuds/Mizuphae
Summary: For once, justonce, Tim would like a normal hour. Just him and his friends, sitting around and chatting like normal teenagers.Just this once.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake, Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake & Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 16
Kudos: 98





	Just an Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Tsuki, Oceans, and TheFairMaidenOfFandom for betaing!
> 
> Please enjoy this lil bundle of sadness :D

“No!”

The three teenaged heroes could only helplessly watch as one of their friends—their _human_ and most vulnerable friend—was thrown through the air by a deafening explosion. Kon and Cassie simultaneously reached out to fly and catch him, forgetting that their powers were taken away by the supervillain before they were able to escape. Bart, too, tried his best to save Tim from a grisly crash-landing, but without his abilities, he wasn’t able to make it in time.

Only a couple of feet in front of Bart, to his utter horror, Tim smashed onto the concrete, the horrible sounds of bones snapping and a sharp intake of breath echoing in Bart’s ears.

“Rob!” Bart shouted, scrambling to check Tim’s pulse. To his utter relief, there was a beat underneath his fingertips, albeit thready and way too fast. 

Kon and Cassie exchanged a look of terror and worry for their friend before rushing over. Robin—their Robin—was much more important to them. What if they wouldn’t get to say good-bye, just because they decided to tie up the enemy first? The supervillain was most likely incapacitated by the same explosion that sent Robin flying through the air.

A shaky hand suddenly reached up to grasp Bart’s thin wrist. 

“Impul—Impulse,” Tim tried before blood filled his mouth. 

With an exorbitant and agonizing amount of strength, Tim leaned his head to the side to cough up the blood. Bart couldn’t help but stare as he realized that Tim’s ribs must have cracked and broken from the impact, causing Tim’s lungs to fill up with blood. The white cement was stained, horrifically contrasted with the bright red blood.

Bart knelt, using one hand to search Tim’s body for injuries as Tim clutched onto his other hand. Sympathy and guilt panged in his chest for not being able to reach Tim in time as he realized some limbs were not bent the right way. 

Relief ran through the speedster when Kon and Cassie finally reached them, expressions filled with distress. When Bart’s hand merely grazed Tim’s torso, Tim let out a loud sob before muffling himself, only a soft whimper reaching their ears.

Running his hand through his hair with distress, Kon crouched beside Tim and Cassie followed suit. 

“Rob?” Kon said gently. 

Tim only squeezed his eyes shut and pain rolled down his body, wheezing but wincing at every breath. A part of him wished that he didn’t have to breathe. He never realized how painful breathing could be as each inhale and exhale exacerbated the agony that encompassed his body.

“Guys—” Tim coughed, blood bubbling from his mouth. Kon immediately reached over to wipe his chin.

It took every ounce of their being to keep watching their friend—their best friend—struggle for breath, but they couldn’t look away. They had no idea if this would be their last glance at Tim while he is still alive, while he is still the Tim they know and not a cold, still body lying in a casket.

Tim huffed, “Cassie,” before reaching out towards her. “It’s okay.”

Only then, Cassie realized there were tears rolling down her face, incredulous that their injured and possibly dying friend was the one consoling her rather than vice versa.

“Robin,” Cassie said with as much authority she could muster as she blinked tears out of her eyes. “Everything’s going to be fine, Rob.” Her words came out so much more rushed and flustered than she wanted. In a flurry, not knowing whether she was trying to reassure Tim or herself, she rambled, “Everything is going to be just fine, just fine, I tell you. Just fine, so fine, you will come out of this alive just like before and—”

Her words were interrupted by a solid and heavy weight on her shoulder. When she looked over, she saw Tim resting a hand there, struggling to keep his breaths steady. 

“I know, Cassie,” he said so softly and so _unbearably_ calm. “I know.”

“How can you-,” Her voice broke, tears flooding her vision. She wiped them away roughly and quickly. “How can you be so calm?”

Tim tried to smile, but he only grimaced, somehow making him look even worse. “Robins don’t exactly have the best track record,” he attempted to joke but the other three weren’t able to listen.

“We need to—” Kon shakily stood up, twisting and turning wildly in every direction. “We need to call the Justice League. We need help.”

“No,” Tim wheezed, desperately beckoning him to come back. “All communications were destroyed when we were in the cell.”

Bart looked miserable. “So thoroughly, too. Not even a simple GPS left.”

Without any technology or superpowers, they were stuck. They were in the middle of nowhere and couldn’t afford to move Tim.

“Damn it,” Kon growled. “We have to do _something_!”

But there weren’t any options left. The group fell silent, aside from Tim’s coughing and the occasional sniffle from the other three. Until Tim interrupted the distraught silence. 

“Can—” 

Whatever thoughts Tim was about to voice were cut off by coughing, followed by splutters of blood. With anxious eyes and sadness that there was nothing they could do to help, they waited for him to continue.

“Please… Can I have one last normal hour?” 

Kon choked in surprise as Tim spat out frothy red blood onto the pavement. He sighed before letting his head fall limply to the ground again.

“Rob—what?!”

“Huh?!”

“What do you mean?!”

Tim was quiet for a couple of moments before he spoke. “Pretend that it’s just another Tuesday,” he explained. “I’d rather not die surrounded by pity.” Tim smiled tightly.

“You’re _not_ going to die, Robin.” Cassie ordered. “Stop saying that.”

Kon hid a sob as Bart covered his mouth with his hand.

“Wonder Girl…” Tim, trembling, rested a hand on one of Cassie’s. “Please, guys.”

Carefully and gently, Kon moved forward to sit and lightly embrace Tim, holding him against his chest. Tim allowed his weight to drop against him, pressing his lips in a thin line. Bart’s bottom lip trembled as he tried not to cry, but failing as tears ran down his face. Cassie squeezed Tim’s hand, watching his frail chest strain, intensely and despairingly.

“Talk.” Tim _pleaded_. “Please, guys.” 

They collectively stared down at the ground.

Kon sucked in a breath. “How about those Metropolis Giants?” Kon tried to crack a smile, knowing what reaction he’ll get. “We’re definitely going to win this weekend.”

Tim weakly swatted at Kon, “Yeah, right. Gotham Knights will win, this time.”

“You said that last week, and the week before that, too,” Bart added, making Tim laugh.

But his laugh was much more like a wheeze and led to an excruciating cough that racked Tim’s body. Bart regretted saying anything.

“Just breathe,” Cassie said gently, pushing Tim’s hair out of his face. “Relax, Robin.”

“Please—” Tim cleared his throat, or at least he tried to. “Please, just talk a little bit longer, for me. Only for an hour, and then you can do whatever you’d like.”

His attempt at a smile was gut-wrenching and _no one_ wanted to think about what would happen by the end of the hour.

“Just—” Kon took off his sunglasses and furiously wiped at his face. “Just an hour. That’s quite the time restraint. It’s very you, team-leader.”

“Just an hour,” Tim repeated, breaths getting slower by the second.

The three gathered around the fallen hero gave small sad smiles to him before they began to chatter aimlessly and endlessly. If someone asked them what they talked about, they wouldn’t be able to answer. Because it all felt like a blur.

But he didn't make it to an hour. He only made it to nine minutes and fourteen seconds. 

_Not even ten minutes._

It was supposed to be an hour.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Every comment, hit, and kudos brighten my day. Please take care of yourselves and have a wonderful day/night (I don't judge, I read fics at 3 am all the time)


End file.
